


With Curling Hair

by DoreyG



Category: Horrible Histories
Genre: F/M, Genderswap
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-13
Updated: 2011-11-13
Packaged: 2017-10-26 01:31:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/277071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DoreyG/pseuds/DoreyG
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the HH anon meme. Genderswapped!Charles II is just as flirty as her male counterpart, Sothers is helpless to resist.</p>
            </blockquote>





	With Curling Hair

“It’s a miracle that you haven’t gotten pregnant a thousand times,” he huffs one morning and she only laughs, turning lazily in her wide skirts to flash him an impish grin. She was out all night with a handsome young actor and she supposes the evidence still shows in her hair, tossed merrily over her shoulders like she just rose from her ‘debauched’ bed and swayed to the palace in the dawn light.

…Well, it’s not too far from the truth. Except being ‘debauched’ is a lot more fun than they say.

“It’s really not right,” Sotherby tries again, his eyes flashing in disapproval as she moves closer – twining a curl around her finger in the smuggest way possible, “do you want more-?”

“Without the royal bastards my brother would ascend and we all know how that would end,” she purrs, drifting yet another step and _maybe_ sticking her bosom out – she has a nice bosom, it deserves to be wafted at any highly desirable gentlemen that cross her path (and even gentle ladies, to be picky over such things would never do), “besides, I only have five…”

“ _Only_?” He splutters, as she lays a ‘delicate’ (seemingly delicate, it’s hard to call such a thing delicate when it’s brought so many screaming to their pleasure) hand against his chest.

“Some are content with twelve, I hear.”

“You _will_ have twelve if you don’t-“

She smiles, raises her fingers to his cheek and takes pleasure in cutting him off – she can always do so, and not just to her Sothers. It’s amazing what many men will do for a fine set of eyes and a certain sense of adventure. “Besides, my dear sir, at least _two_ of them are yours.”

He opens his mouth-

“Would you insult your children, sir?”

His terribly handsome mouth-

She quite feels the need to smirk at it, “would you insult the mother of your children, my Sothers?”

“…No.”

“Good,” she smiles, as he slowly shuts his wonderfully stubborn mouth and lets his eyes inevitably drop, “besides, my dear Afonso doesn’t mind so why should anybody else care about such pointless matters?”

“You-“

“Come now,” she chides him, and guides his hands to her already free breasts, “I feel quite awake enough for a round on the throne, and _then_ we can see to breakfast.”

It, thinks Charlotte the second of England as her skirts are hitched up around her waist again, is good to be queen.


End file.
